


One Step At A Time, Don't Settle For Less.

by GirlWithTheCinderblockGarden



Series: Redamancy [1]
Category: Inception (2010), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BAMF Vanya Hargreeves, Crossover, DaD sEnT mE tO tHe MoOn (Umbrella Academy), Dysfunctional Family, Families of Choice, Good Sibling Allison Hargreeves, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Making This Up As I Go, Multi, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Inception, Read at Your Own Risk, Tags Are Fun, Tags May Change, Team as Family, Unconventional Families, Vanya Hargreeves-centric, ignores season 2, ill be honest, it feels like i ramble too much, no beta we die like ben
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26426800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlWithTheCinderblockGarden/pseuds/GirlWithTheCinderblockGarden
Summary: Vanya Hargreeves is 21 years old and free of the autocratic influence of her adoptive father for roughly three years when her life takes a turn for the outlandish the instant Dominic Cobb steps into it, all hidden mysteries and somber blue eyes.
Series: Redamancy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927780
Comments: 40
Kudos: 113





	1. A lil' bit of Context

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously i don't own either the Umbrella Academy or Inception, but this work is inspired by both those medias.  
> Also, the Title comes from Amanda Braley's "Follow Your Dream".

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have no Beta reader, so please take kindly to any abhorrent spelling errors you may find from here on out.

So, this first chapter is just gonna be some explanations for this amalgamation world i'm trying to weave into a coherent story, but basically, it goes like this:

It takes place in an alternate universe where Vanya takes some time to find herself and ends up studying architecture in Paris under a fake name as to not draw too much attention to herself.

During her time in Paris, Vanya, going here by Ariadne, is recruited to Dominic Cobb's Inception team for the talent she shows in architecture.

None of Vanya's siblings know of her little illegal stints into dream sharing, given that none of them have been in contact for about 5-6 years, which will account for both Vanya's time as a graduate and the time she will have spent working as a dream Architect for various jobs around the world.

Taking into account the very little we know about the Inception timeline (and how it takes place somewhere [twenty minutes into the future](https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TwentyMinutesIntoTheFuture)) i'll be working mostly with the timeline provided by TUA and assuming Inception took place around 2010, which makes the Hargreeves siblings 20-21 years of age and probably makes Vanya a bloody prodigy in her chosen field, as Ariadne is working on her Master's degree by the time Inception takes place ( i gotta work with what i'm given here).


	2. Follow your dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actual chapter one! Hope those who read this enjoy the fic as much as i enjoyed writing it.  
> Have fun.

_Follow your dream._

_Take one step at a time and don't settle for less,_

_Just continue to climb._

_Follow your dream._

_If you stumble, don't stop and lose sight of your goal_

_Press to the top._

_For only on top can we see the whole view,_

_Can we see what we've done and what we can do;_

_Can we then have the vision to seek something new,_

_Press on._

_Follow your dream._

###  **_-Follow Your Dream, Amanda Bradley._ **

* * *

2010-2015

Vanya is 21, three years free from her father's influence and indescribably nervous when professor Miles pulls her aside on her way out of class after one of his lectures, thinking that surely her false identity as Ariadne Baumann has somehow been brought to light.

It's an idea so alarming that it leaves Vanya pale and trembling: to think that all her hard work and her last three years free might be going down the drain just like that.

Reality is just a little bit kinder than that and perhaps just a little more strange, as it turns out: Vanya is introduced to Dominick Cobb, with his somber baby blue eyes and to the point but secretive attitude that reminds Vanya uncomfortably of her father, as he puts her through a test with zero to no explanation as to what Vanya is being tested for.

And then…….

And then there's _dreaming_

Dreaming is unprecedented, an awe inspiring experience that Vanya doesn't think she could have ever conceived in her wildest daydreams (klaus or Five could have though, Vanya thinks in mild bitterness) and Vanya is hooked to it like Klaus is to drugs, like Allison is to abusing her powers, like Five used to be about pushing his limits and about time travel; Luther and Diego's need of their father's approval makes sense now, because Vanya can't imagine not being able to dream and to create in this way anymore.

Even with the _otherness_ of it, using the PASIV (Portable Automated Somnacin IntraVenous Device) feels natural as playing her Violin and Vanya takes to building and to _dreaming_ faster than a fish takes to water. Cobb tells her she's a natural at it, calling her extraordinary with a knowing look in his eye that confirms to Vanya he knows who she really is. 

Maybe the whole team knows too.

Vanya thanks whoever is listening for the team's "don't ask, dont tell" policy.

Even then, Vanya has always been observant and in their time together she gets to know the men around her.

Eames is easy conversations that won't truly give anything away, he's a cup of coffee placed on her table after she spends the night working but only when Eames thinks she isn't looking; he's hands brushing in a friendly gesture across her shoulders or hair and careless flirting, even as Vanya blanks at his compliments, thinking, of both Allison and Klaus when looking at the accented man.

Eames is also playful and longing glances towards Arthur, when he thinks no one bothers to see, but Vanya would never mention that out loud, out of respect.

Arthur is uptight and to the point; he's sharp, exasperated glances in Eames' direction when the man makes jabs at anyone of them; and scarily accurate and detailed information: on the target, on locations, on common knowledge; but Arthur is also his surprisingly soft glances and a patient attitude, always willing to elaborate or explain the same information multiple times. Vanya can simultaneously see Ben and Five in the man.

Yusuf is absolute brilliance and Vanya can tell from the moment she sets her eyes on him: Yusuf's mind is constantly racing, and that translates to bitten-to-the-quick nails, bouncing legs expending energy, and the small notebook he keeps in his pocket, always accompanied by at least one pencil-and-eraser combo, ready to note down any thought or chemical formula that just might improve Somnacin's performance. Yusuf's brilliance is distinct and quieter than Five's had ever been, but Vanya recognizes genius when she sees it because she's lived with it for most of her life.

And then there's Cobb. Dominick.

The man is brilliant and possibly the best mentor Vanya has ever had, guiding her but allowing Vanya to come to conclusions by herself.

But Cobb is also strict and secretive, telling little about himself and doing his best to reveal even less, leaving his subconscious to show what Cobb refuses to say when it literally attacks and tries to kill Vanya through a projection of his late wife.

Vanya knows trauma when she sees it, so she pushes, maybe a little more than she should.

And then they're putting Robert Fischer under, ready to influence the man's mind without an ounce of remorse (maybe just a little bit of remorse on Vanya's part. She feels a bit like a villain).

Naturally, their well thought out plan goes to complete shit on the first chance that presents itself and it turns out to be the right choice to follow Cobb down to Limbo, if only to make sure everything goes alright.

Leaving the plane and stepping on United States soil for the first time in three years is definitely not a good feeling and Vanya immediately feels like she's being watched, unlikely as the idea is.

She doesn't want to go back to New York, under any circumstances, at least that Vanya is sure of.

So Vanya follows Dominick to LA, meets his children and visits often enough between jobs with the others throughout the years that she becomes Auntie Ari and that title settles as warmly into Vanya's bones as a cup of hot chocolate on a snowy winter's day, leaves her sure that this is what a real family should look like: bickering but attentive siblings in Arthur and Eames, a father figure in the man that was her mentor, Cobb; a cousin she sees a little less frequently in Yusuf; a pair of _adorable_ niblings that smile and screech in delight on the occasions that Vanya steps through the door; filling up spaces in Vanya's heart that were so empty she had never realised could ever really be filled.

It's the kind of life Vanya had always daydreamed about as the only normal and unwanted child living with her beloved-by-all superpowered siblings but had never thought possible to truly attain, what with her low self-esteem and her adoptive family being who it was; and even despite that, Vanya managed to build it for herself, with her own talent and merits; and it felt like triumph blooming like a flower in her chest.

Vanya spends the next five years of her life building mazes and _dreaming_ ; constructing nonsensical grand cathedrals that defy the rules of logic; twisting, spiralling cities of gleaming glass and gold; lush, snowy forests and imposing dark castles, making a name for herself in the underground gossip of dream sharing: some say she's the best architect anyone can find, the most reliable out there.

She still finds her favourite people to work with to be Eames, Arthur and Yusef.

While occasionally vanya worries about whether her adoptive father ever suspected of her less-than legal job; she's relieved to never be contacted by the deplorable man, and confident in the knowledge that at least her siblings will never know about it, what with their disinterest in her life- a realisation that Vanya was surprised to be content with she found: this was the one part of her life that would only ever be hers, and no one else's, the one thing which she would never _have_ to share with or give to any of her siblings.

Ariadne is 26 and barely remembers what it was like to be Vanya anymore when news breaks of her Father's death and she is dragged back to the life she had thought would never be hers anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, if you read this and you like it, please leave a comment, it'd make my day.


	3. So you're free at last

_So you're free at last_

_And beginning to forget the past_

_Does it make you sad_

_When you think about the life you had_

_But you're right, you had to take a second chance_

_So you fight to find your freedom_

_-Hey, hey Helen, Abba_

* * *

2015, March  
  
  


The News of Reginald Hargreeves' death comes at the worst times possible: it happens on one of Ariadne's fairly frequent visits to the Cobb household in Los Angeles; during one of the rare times that the whole team manages to congregate for a social call.

Ariadne lounges comfortably on one of Cobb's sinfully plush armchairs; the basic scheme of a maze slowly taking form in the pages of the notebook lying open on top of her legs, while Eames sits on the chair's armrest, his arm circling the small woman's shoulder in an intimate and friendly gesture as, around her, the men keep a lively conversation going.

If Ariadne were to look up this instant, she'd find Eames and Arthur keeping playful eye contact, a smirk on the former's lips as both Arthur and Cobb roll their eyes and Yusuf leans back, rubbing his forehead and trying desperately to keep in his mirth.

Someone laughs loudly over the sound of the TV and Ariadne can't help herself from laughing along, the good mood and cheery atmosphere feel somehow contagious, even if she doesn't really know what was said to elicit the laughter in the first place.

Ariadne can faintly hear Miles and Marie bickering- in a way that only people who have known each other for years can- from inside the kitchen. Marie insisted on taking on kitchen duty, even with the protests of all the others in the house. Ariadne is glad they can stand to be in the same house together nowadays, even if for just the sake of their grandchildren.

From somewhere else- and quickly approaching, Phillipa and James can be heard; gleeful screeches and laughter bouncing through the house's walls and out to the backyard, probably announcing to the whole neighbourhood their exhilaration while they engage in a fast-paced game of tag that feels doomed to end with _something_ in the house broken. No one else seems too worried about it, so Ariadne chooses to remain unconcerned too.

Phillipa darts through the living room with James at her heels, fast enough that Ariadne can only catch two twin flashes of gold-spun blond hair from the corner of her eyes before they're gone again, a vase wobbling in it's perch in the wake of the kids' heavy footfalls. 

Ariadne doesn't have to look up to know that Cobb's eyes are following his children's plight adoringly.

(She envies them sometimes; wishes she'd been as happy and beloved as they are but settles for showering the kids with all the adoration she's never received, thrives in making them happy. That's enough for her, at the end of the day).

It's a downright idyllic day and probably one of the most pleasant moments in all of Ariadne's life, made all the better when she feels Eames' lips brush lightly over her temple, his eyes likely still locked onto Arthur's, if the smirk she feels is any indication.

(Both men do things like this frequently enough nowadays that Ariadne feels like they're vying for her attention sometimes, like Phillipa and James fight over new toys).

Of course that's the moment it all goes down the drain.

A news report mentions the name Reginald Hargreeves and for all of half a second, the conversation in the living room ceases, only to resume immediately after, only if a little bit louder than before, as everyone tries to overlook the momentary silence.

Then Reginald Hargreeves is announced to be dead and Ariadne is only really half listening to the report, but her world stops and hyperfocuses on the words "Reginald" and "dead" as they float in an echo through her head.

The living room is silent as a grave, Ariadne can't even hear Miles and Marie or Phillipa and James anymore, but she can feel the eyes of her team glued on to her form.

Then suddenly someone snorts- rather loudly too- and starts giggling.

Ariadne wants to tell them it's not funny, they shouldn't laugh about this, Reginald's death is probably hurting _someone_ out there; but even she can't really bring herself to believe that, so it's probably a lost cause.

She realises she is the one laughing. 

She's probably worrying the children too; and honestly, Ariadne's the worst aunt ever.

But for now, the monster that haunts her nightmares is no more; the contorted apparition that hides under her bed and torments her to this day is slayed. 

But still he's imprinted himself deeply into who she is so very long ago and she still hurts over the news, hurts so much she feels anger boil in her chest too: How _dare_ Reginald Hargreeves draw anything else out of her that isn't anger? Has he not taken enough from her?

Relief, anger and grief fight to bloom inside of her; however, suddenly her body feels too small to experience all of them at once.

Ariadne realises she's crying, salty tears accompanied by giggles and hiccups.

She must seem deranged.

Eames eases himself more into the armchair, nearly squishing Ariadne in the process only to pick up and drop the petite woman into his lap as if she weighs nothing. 

"You okay there, Darling?"

Ariadne nods, even as all the men around her - and even herself- know she's completely bullshitting them, but then again, they've all been together long enough to know when to push it.

And this isn't the time to do it.

It's Yusuf's voice that truly gets her out of her head. "What are you gonna do, Ari? Are you gonna attend the funeral?"

Ariadne nervously touches the totem in her pocket, a small pill bottle she decorated with the help of her niblings. She runs her hand over it: a small laminated drawing that Phillipa drew her a few years back decorates the side of the bottle in place of a medical label; the halfway melted bottle cap simultaneously prevents the bottle's opening in the real world and impedes the escape of the two small items clattering inside- a small Igneous rock gifted to her by James and a small violin charm, chosen by Phillipa, James and Ariadne together.

The bottlecap does not budge an inch when she tries to open it.

This is real. She isn't dreaming.

Ariadne snorts in derision. "Definitely not, Reginald can rot in hell for all I care. I do wanna get completely shitfaced though, if i'm honest."

It's what they do that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay Chapter two!  
> I honestly realized when writing chapter one that Inception doesn't really gives us a lot to work with in terms of Yusuf's character, so i decided i'm gonna make him mine, built him as i see fit, but do call me out if if catch me writing OOC characters.  
> As always, please leave a comment if you like.


	4. A House Is Not A Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family reunions, a funeral. You know the drill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, i'd like to note that if Vanya/Ariadne ever seems OOC, its a very deliberate choice: Vanya, in this story has gone through A TON of therapy, she's taking the correct meds for her anxiety and depression and she has a tight-knit support system that helps her a lot; the Vanya in this story honestly just resembles the Vanya we see in the series and i think that's one of the reasons I chose to refer to her mostly as Ariadne for most of the rest of the story.  
>  I'm also working a bit on the assumption that any drug will at least hinder the powers of the 43 and Reginald's special blend was just made to affect powers specifically without actually helping Vanya's with her mental problems, which i feel like is something Reginald would actually do and is probably why they seemed fucking useless in the series, personally.  
>  I'd like to also make it clear that Vanya doesn't feel very attached to the Hargreeves'; in her mind she sees being here as a mission: Get in, do whatever needs to be done, get out and head back home.

Hold a funeral for nothing

And celebrate how empty love can be broken

It takes the sea to put you six feet happily underground

-A Shot Across The Bow, Mayday Parade.

* * *

  
  


She attends the fucking funeral.

Completely against her own will, Ariadne will gladly tell anyone who asks.

But apparently not taking her own advice -which is actually her therapist's, she just passed it on to those who needed it, really- makes her a hypocrite.

So Ariadne caves.

Ariadne has never before regretted encouraging her family's personal growth as she does now. Maybe she wouldn't have been forced to come here if she hadn't done it.

Now, with nearly nine years of fake history added to Vanya Hargreeves' name (courtesy of one of Arthur's friend, a 'guy who knows some people', and it's all very official looking), Ariadne stands in front of the imposing behemoth that is the Hargreeeves estate and feels a bit like Jonah about to be swallowed by the whale, with the only difference between them being that she is willingly walking into the beast's yawning maw, a lamb walking to the slaughter out of her own free will.

Ariadne fiddles with the totem in her jacket pocket, the cap still refuses to budge even an inch, despite her trembling hands' continuous efforts, telling her without mincing words that this is reality and she should fucking face it.

The small brunette exhales a jittery sigh before squaring her shoulders.

She knows she can do this. She's survived and done worse.

She can do this, Ariadne repeats in her own mind. She's gonna stay here for a couple of weeks at most and she's only here to save face and play the mourning daughter- much like most of the others, she'd be willing to bet.

Ariadne takes a moment to wonder if the others are still mad about the book she wrote on that first year, when they were all 18 and didn't really know how to function like regular people outside of the estate. The thought makes her shoulders drop down again.

The small woman takes a moment to think about whether she took her anxiety medication that day: She's feeling more jittery than usual, even with the pills her psychiatrist had prescribed- which are much more effective than the ones Reginald kept her on for years.

Having had enough of her own dilly-dallying, Ariadne slowly climbs up the house's front steps, finding the large double doors to be, surprisingly, unlocked.

Inside, the house is simultaneously completely different from her memories and shockingly the same: it's still vast and desolate, but not nearly as terrifying as her mind would have had Ariadne believe.

It's just an old, empty house; she realises now. 

Even then, walking through the foyer feels more somber than it used to be, as if the halls themselves were part of a living, breathing thing; frozen in time and seemingly mourning its master's death.

_ Honestly _ , Ari thinks bitterly to herself,  _ mourn away. No one else fucking will. _

Just as she's preparing to head down to the kitchen, hoping to find someone else in the house, Ariadne catches sight of a flash of golden hair in the living room.

Longing hits Ari like a bullet train and she feels the sudden urge to set her eyes on her niblings, who are all the way across the country. 

_ This dreary old house would feel infinitely brighter with their presence bringing it life and their laughter painting its walls _ .  _ Maybe the deserted mansion would welcome them with an embrace that it never did have for the Hargreeves children. Maybe it could cherish them enough to become a home. _

Shaking herself from her thoughts, Ariadne takes a hesitant step towards the living room and finally recognises Grace as the owner of the golden hair.

"Mom?" Ariadne asks rather loudly, despite not wanting to startle Grace.

The fair haired android doesn't respond to the query, not at all budging from her concentrated stare towards… somewhere. 

Swallowing, Ariadne shuffles from one foot to the other without quite knowing what to do with herself. It seems a bit wrong to bother Grace when she seems so concentrated.

Thankfully she's saved from her moral dilemma when a feminine voice calls out "Vanya?", sounding both surprised and maybe a little pleased.

Ari hopes her team never hears of this, but the reason she doesn't respond to Allison's query is because ' _Vanya_ ' feels a bit like a name that doesn't belong to her. She has not been Vanya in many, many years.

Still, Ariadne Baumann is a professional with nearly a dozen fake ID's under her belt and this is not the one she will fuck up.

It's a bit embarrassing how much this is affecting her nerves; Eames will never let her live it down if he catches wind of her Faux pas though, so Ariadne forces herself to get her head in the game.

"You're actually here." Allison's voice sounds bright as she descends the stairs, slowly and bathed by the warm afternoon light, making her look more angel than human, in Ariadne's opinion.

Hugging Allison feels nothing like hugging her niblings or any of the men in her life back in LA- even Arthur isn't as tense, on the rare occasion he deems hugs appropriate. Hugging Allison is stiff and awkward, but much too pliant to feel like an actual hug. Allison hugs Ariadne like she's afraid of breaking her significantly smaller sister, but that's probably Ari's fault: she feels boorish and graceless in this house and her posture definitely presents her in a fashion similar to that of a scared child.

Ari can tell that Allison's trying though; she's trying so very hard. At what? Ariadne can't quite tell.

It probably doesn't help that Ariadne feels like she's gonna end up swallowing hair the whole hug through though; so that might contribute to the awkwardness of the whole thing.

"What is she doing here? You don't belong here, not after what you did." Diego's voice is loud and resentful, cutting through the air much like one of his ridiculously sharp blades and mercifully ending the moment between the Hargreeves women.

The sentiment is fair, honestly: she wrote that stupid book without telling anyone about it, spilling family secrets and giving intrusive insight into their lives and then she disappeared off the face of the Earth to never contact anyone of her family again. They probably thought she was dead or something, now that Ariadne thinks about it.

So really, she isn't hurt by Diego's hostility, he's completely entitled to it.

Allison, on the other hand, doesn't seem to have the same nonchalance as Ari does.

"You're seriously gonna do this today?" Her voice rings loud and true, dripping with barely masked contempt towards Diego's attitude. "Way to dress for the occasion, by the way."

It's… nice of Allison to defend her, but after having read the file provided by Arhur on the other woman- on all of the Hargreeves children, actually, including herself- Ariadne can't help but wonder if this niceness doesn't stem from some type of empty nest syndrome or misguided guilt over the situation with her daughter.

Ariadne feels uncomfortable with either option and has no wish to be the target of Allison's attempts at making amends. She's not Claire or Patrick to be entitled to forgive Allison for her mistakes.

The short woman briefly wishes something would happen, like a robbery nearby or someone coming back from the dead (Preferably not Sir Reginald, though), if only Allison would drop the kicked puppy look.

"I'm glad you're here." Allison says, all earnest voice and sad eyes.

Ariadne tries not to squirm as Allison walks away.

* * *

The living room is large and haunted by nicknacks reminiscing the glory days of the Umbrella Academy, back when most of them still desperately longed for Reginald's approval.

Ariadne questions how a person like Reginald Hargreeves could stand to live like this; in a museum to the triumphs of his greatest failure. She wonders too, if the man had ever had a moment in which he truly cared for any of the children whose lives he wrecked.

Maybe she could learn to forgive him, if that were the case.

_ The Book _ sits forgotten on a shelf, the smoothness of its spine affirming that it had never been opened.

She's… not really surprised.

Sending a copy of the book had been a cry for attention at the time, even if she didn't realise it. It's probably for the best that it went ignored: Ariadne might have never gone to Paris otherwise, she wouldn't have met the people she now calls her family. 

The short woman wonders who she would be in a world like that. 

Likely a bitter, lonely version of herself, still chasing after her family's elusive shadows.

Shadows that _aren't even worth_ being chased after, she realises now that she contemplates the lives her siblings built and then ruined for themselves.

( _And isn't that a slap to Reginald Hargreeves' face?_ His most hated child is the only one out of seven who didn't _destroy_ her own fucking life).

(She could kiss her therapist. The woman deserves a bonus or something).

Lost in thought, Ariadne misses the approach of Pogo before his voice rings out, welcoming her home (welcoming her to a house she hates, with a name that hasn't been hers in over eight years).

But Ariadne plays the role. She's been trained to do it and she's _bloody_ _good_ at it.

(it helps, if only a little, that Pogo had always been nice to her; that his hug is a lot less stilted than Allison's had been).

Ariadne couldn't have predicted Luther implying that one of them might have killed Sir Reginald, which just goes to show that even after reading their files, she doesn't know  _ everything _ about these people. It's a pleasant surprise, so ' _ Go Luther _ ', she supposes.

(It's no surprise though, that none of the Hargreeves children seem to be able to keep cordial conversation for more than five minutes. It's shocking that this group of people ever thought to call themselves a family. They really were just an elitist boarding school at the end of the day).

* * *

Dancing is a high note of the day; maybe the only one.

The song Luther chose to blare loudly through the house makes the whole building seem brighter, if only for a precious few moments, but even then, Ariadne misses having a dancing partner (preferably Phillipa, who's the best at leading, regardless of Eames' offended gasps) to twirl and laugh with.

But then the house is not just metaphorically bright anymore, as bright blue light floods in through the rattling stained glass window in vaguely familiar hues.

And then tiny thirteen-year-old number Five (he's _not_ taller than her, shut up) falls into their backyard through a freaking  _ rip in the fabric of reality  _ or something along those lines _ ,  _ and he's all sharp words and a nonchalance, as if he hadn't been missing for over a decade.

_ Honestly, does the universe only listen to the requests she doesn't really mean? _

It's just her kind of luck and she wonders if that's her power blooming twenty years too late: getting every stupid wish she makes, so long as she doesn't actually mean it and the wish makes her life a bit more miserable.

Five still treats her the nicest, even as he compliments Klaus (but Ariadne is of the opinion that everyone should be nice to Klaus, he's had the hardest time out of anyone in the academy; so maybe Klaus doesn't count), which is decidedly strange, with his sharp-but-ancient eyes and grudging compliments.

It kind of feels like not time really passed between them.

* * *

The memorial itself is… wet and miserable.

The word 'disappointing' comes to mind, if Ariadne had to describe it in just one. Ariadne herself has arranged ceremonies much grander and personal for  _ targets _ along the years, so clearly the planner of this ceremony didn't  _ 'plan´  _ shit.

It's only made worse when Diego can't manage to keep his mouth shut and gets into a fight with Luther, which anyone with a brain would realises is a bad idea.

And then they break Ben's statue in their squirmish. 

Honestly? Ariadne takes back any positive thought she might have had about Luther. The large man is clearly a dimwitted buffoon, and Diego's not at all better than that. For all of their disagreements, Number One and Number Two aren't that different from each other at the end of the day.

Ariadne feels a migraine forming along her temples and rubbing at her eyes does nothing to help the feeling. She can barely stand to be around these people anymore.

Admonishing Diego comes more out of reflex than anything else but she regrets having left Grace out in the rain by herself, if that really counts for much of anything.

* * *

The apartment that Arthur had prepared for her is- for lack of a more appropriate word- a _shithole_. It's decorated with the bare minimum to make it feel like a person (a very  _ bland _ person, that it) has plausibly lived in the space for the last nine years of their life. She's lived in worse places due to their jobs; but between herself, Arthur, Eames, Yusuf and Dominick; they have enough money to never have to work another day in their lives.

And  _ more than enough _ to pay for a decent apartment.

(They all still work because none of them could live without the adrenaline in their lives, she reckons; they would blow the house up to high heavens in their boredom if any of them were to ever retire).

She is surprised by the appearance of a (baby) brother in the darkness of an apartment she's never set foot into before, lounging around like he owns the place.

"You should have locks on your windows." He says, as if he didn't just give Ari a fucking heart attack.

"I live on the second floor." She shoots back, just for the sake of the argument. It's been a long day and she's tired of holding her tongue. If he didn't want her sass, he shouldn't have broken into her apartment in the middle of the night. 

_ Bite me _ , she thinks.

"Rapists can climb."

_ Jesus H. Christ,  _ Ariadne thinks, fighting the urge to let her mouth hang open. 

Here in front of her, she realises, sits the lab-made carbon copy of Arthur: Same efficiency and detail oriented attitude; they could be blood related. Or maybe Five served- will serve?- in the army during his time in the future; it would explain the similarities in their behaviour; Five seems more reserved than he was as a child.

(Being called ordinary still stings, she finds out that night).

As Ariadne searches the bathroom cabinets for medical supplies she whispers "I think I found your clone, Arthur." to the empty bathroom.

She's sure at least Yusuf and Eames will appreciate her humour through the microphones she  _ knows _ are installed all throughout the apartment.

Finding out that the world is ending kills any mirth Ari might have felt about the situation though.

"I'll put on a pot of coffee." She says in place of any proper response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I hope you're enjoying reading this so far and i hope you'll leave comment if you are.  
>  If you have any queries about the story, you can just ask me, i'll likely answer them all, unless, of course, they're spoilers.


	5. The Rough But Applicable Redamancy Timeline By Strawberry Moss, Author.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What it says on the title, folks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this a bit as an apology for the delay on the next chapter; I haven't been able to actually put to paper the ideas i've had in mind these last few days and college work hasn't been making it easier, so when I finally was able to start typing the next chapter, I also put some time aside to build on the timeline, not only to help any reader that's interested but also to help myself in the writing.  
> The whole timeline up until March 24, which is when the story (and the series) really starts, is gonna be available, but i'm holding out anything after that, to prevent spoilers to the timeline.

_**Oct 1, 1989** **-** _ The Miracle 43 are born;

**_June ?, 1994-_ **Vanya can't control her powers, is brainwashed;

_????, 2002 -_ TUA debuts;

_Nov 10, 2002-_ Five jumps to the future;

_????, 2003_ _-_ Harold approaches Reginald, is rejected, kills own father;

_????, 2006-_ Ben dies;

_????, 2007-_ Tua starts to leave home;

_**????, 2007-2008** -_Vanya writes her book;

_????, late 2009 to mid 2010-_ Cobb couple stuck in limbo; Dom on the run;

_**????, 2010** -_ Vanya meets Cobb, learns about dreaming and helps with inception, Hargreeves children are 21;

_????, 2012-_ Luther injured, sent to moon;

_????, 2014-_ Harold released from prison;

**_March 21, 2015_ ** _-_ Reginald’s Suicide; His ‘children’ are 25;

_March 22-24, 2015_ _-_ Siblings return to the NY mansion;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, i'm REALLY sorry for the delay in the next chapter, i hope you can forgive me.  
>  I had some fun NAMING this chapter, putting in my old Discord username and the name i go by; and although it's a bit of an obvious reference, if you understand what the title refers to, you get a cookie.  
>  Also, I SHOULD probably be done with the next chapter by tomorrow night, but i won't actually promise anything.


	6. Lost Love Is Still Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
>  So, this chapter is very very late and i'm very VERY sorry for that. I hope the chapter length can somehow makeup for the delay since the only excuses i have are a lack of concentration, the fact that i didn't know what to tittle this chapter and the fact that my wrist was killing me (I first write the chapters out by hand, they feel more natural like that.  
>  With all of that aside, i'd like to say that from now on the chapters will probably come at a more moderate pace so i don't actually end up spraining my wrist; i hope anyone who's reading is alright with that.  
>  As always, i don't have a beta reader, so you can point out any mistakes you see, i don't mind.  
> And lastly, please enjoy the read. :D

_The feeling that she had never really lived in this world caught her by surprise. It was a fact. She had never lived. Even as a child, as far back as she could remember, she had done nothing but endure._

Han Kang, from _The Vegetarian_

* * *

  
  


March 24, 2015

  
  


“I survived on scraps.” Five scoffs. “Canned foods, cockroaches. You know that rumour that Twinkies have an endless shelf life? Well, it’s total bullshit.” 

“I can't even imagine…” Ariadne starts, truly not knowing what words to say to her brother.

“You do whatever it takes to survive or you die.” The old man in a teen’s body says plainly, like he isn’t telling his younger/older sister the horrors he’s experienced during his life. “So we adapted. Whatever the world threw at us, we found a way to overcome it.”

“We?” The short woman asks, wondering who else, besides her bullheaded older brother, could have survived the literal end of the world. He doesn't answer her.

Five pauses, looking Ariadne in the eyes. “You have anything stronger?” he asks.

* * *

After Ariadne pours her (underaged) brother a glass of whiskey, the architect allows herself to drop back onto the couch. Her legs feel too wobbly to keep holding her up, so she allows herself to collapse back on the dingy sofa.

Her hands search for the comforting weight of her totem inside her jacket pocket. The lid doesn't open.

“You think i’m crazy.” Five sighs, his tone uncharacteristically resigned.

And the thing is: she doesn't. She’s seen and lived through weirder things in her life: superpowers, dreamsharing, apes walking and talking like humans; and even that weird vigilante a few cities over, who supposedly killed multiple people and disappeared; the end of the world sounds… strikingly plausible, all things considered.

Besides, try as she might, Ariadne can’t remember a time where Five’s led her wrong. He’s missed the mark by a couple of inches sometimes in their childhood, but never has he been completely wrong.

The facts are these: the world is ending in eight days and there seems to be little to be d0ne about that fact.

But all of that aside, if the world really is ending, Ariadne _needs_ to get back to La right away, she needs to be with her family.

And for that to happen, she needs Five _out_ of her apartment; asap.

So she plays the role that Vanya always took on. She plays the sensible one, the ‘look-before-you-leap’ sibling.

The one sibling that Five really doesn’t need right now/

“No, it’s just…” Ariadne doesn't even know what it is; how does one respond to know when the world is ending? “It’s a lot to take in.” She concludes.

“Exactly what don’t you understand?” Five ask, that old and familiar tone of arrogance back in his voice.

“Why didn’t you just travel back?”

“Gee, I wish i’d thought of that. Time travel is a crapshoot. I went into the ice and never acorn-ed… you think I didn’t try everything to get back to my family?” Five asks her in disbelief.

“If you grew old there, you know, in the apocalypse, how come you still look like a kid?”

“I _told_ you already.” Five stresses, his tone so very irritated, as if he were talking to a toddler.

Maybe he was.

“I must have gotten the equations wrong.” he concludes.

“I mean, dad always used to say that… that time travel could mess up your mind. Maybe that’s what's happening?” Ariadne asks, fighting to look into her adoptive brother’s eyes, the guilt of lying to his face settling like a stone in her chest.

Five reacts instantly, taking large steps in the direction of the door. “This was a mistake. You’re too young… too naive to understand.”

And isn’t that ironic? Ariadne is probably the oldest of the hargreeves children these days besides Five himself, what with her literal _years_ spent dreaming inside the PASIV.

“No, Five… Five, wait. I haven’t seen you in a long time and i don’t want to lose you again.” And doesn’t that feel just a little bit more genuine than most things she’s said all throughout this day?

“That’s all. And you know what? It’s getting late and… I need to sleep, and I'm sure you do too. Here,” she says, already preparing the couch, even as she knows that as soon as she takes her eyes off him, Five will disappear without looking back, just like when they were all children. “We’ll talk about it in the morning again. Okay? I promise… Night.”

“Night.” Five answers, watching, unmoving, as Vanya walks away without looking back and the strange knowledge that, with his many years absent, he might have lost his baby sister -his favourite sister- in a way that the apocalypse could never have taken her from him dawns on the boy. Suddenly Five realises that there is a chasm between them that had never been there before, that he wouldn't be able to clear even with his most ambitious spatial jump.

The knowledge bleeds into the time traveller the same way frozen water settles into one’s bones in winter, making his body heavy and _forcing_ all the air out of his lungs, try as he might to keep it in.

Five leaves.

* * *

Ariadne waits until after she hears Five’s footsteps fade from the building’s hallways before she scrabbles to fish out the extra phone from the secret pocket built into the travel case sent and set up in the apartment’s closet.

( _The extravagant Iphone 6 Plus model proved to be comically large for her rather small hands and it’s coloring made the phone even more showy._

_Ariadne probably should not have allowed Eames to talk her into buying this model for a burner phone, but the forger had made a good case about ‘enjoying the best of life’, especially with how much money they all had to waste, if they really wanted to._

_She’d been conned into overindulging, Ariadne realised now. Should probably have taken Arthur shopping instead.)_

Upon turning on the device, the dream architect is relieved to find the numbers of all her family. She makes a group chat.

_Baby Architect:_

_I know you guys were listening to my convo w/ Five_

_I’m heading back ASAP_

_Gov. Robot:_

_Stay in NY._

_If he’s right, maybe you can extract some info and we can deal with whatever comes up._

_LoML:_

_Arthur’s right sweetheart_

_Work on finding out what you can from your side, we’ll work our magic and do some digging from ours_

_Well see if we can hear any gossip about anything ‘world destructive’ by keeping our ears to the ground_

_Baby Architect:_

_Wouldnt it be better if we were all together?_

_Family Patriarch:_

_Eames and Arthur are right_

_If we don’t find anything out by the 29th, we’ll fly you back out to LA_

_We can try and ride out whatever it might be together_

_If there is something coming_

Ariadne wonders if any of the men are as unnerved as she is; if their hands tremble the same way hers do. She worries for Yusuf, Arthur, Eames, Miles, Marie, Saito and especially for Cobb who must be worried sick about the future of his children.

But most of all, she worries about James and Phillipa; worries that they might never have the chance to grow old if Five is right.

Her phone pings.

_Gov. Robot:_

_Yusuf is considering going back to Mombasa_

_Or flying Nasira and Takisha out to LA_

_We were discussing it when your text came in_

_Care to opine?_

_Baby Architect:_

_Fly them out._

_They haven’t met the Trouble Duo yet adn theres no better time_

_Gov. RObot:_

_Will pass your message along_

_Text if you need anything_

_Stay safe._

The dream architect sends back a simple ‘goodnight’ before heading to bed for a whole night of tossing and turning; her totem clutched in her hand early into the next morning.

* * *

March 25, 2015

The apartment is still thankfully empty when she leaves the bedroom on the following morning, but that also means that her adoptive brother is loose somewhere in New York City and knowing Five, he’s probably making the life of someone a living hell.

Probably someone he considers an idiot, too. 

Then again… Five considers everyone idiots.

Ariadne briefly ponders the merits of allowing the human-shaped force of nature to run rampant in the city streets until he finds whatever it is he needs. It’d save her the headache.

It would also leave some poor hapless victim to endure the torture of Five’s ceaseless bad mood.

With a tired sigh, the short brunette runs a hand down her face and cements her resolve (and regrets everything in her life, ever).

She eats her breakfast and takes her pills before heading out to the mansion.

  
  
  


The Hargreeves estate has not changed much from the day before, though she’s not sure what kind of change she might have expected. It somehow feels more abandoned than in the day before though.

As Ariadne wanders the main hall, calling out for Five and getting no answers to her shouts, the mansion suddenly feels strikingly similar to a mausoleum (she would know: she had to sleep in one once; not the worst night of her life, but certainly not the best night’s sleep she ever got either).

She finds her brother in one of the old second floor bedrooms. “Oh, thank God,” Ariadne says in what feels like genuine relief. “I was worried sick about you.”

“Sorry I left without saying goodbye.” Five says in lieu of a greeting. 

She’s not sure if he means last night or seventeen years ago but still, Ari can tell that he’s not _actually_ sorry; she can tell by the set of his shoulders, the lilt of his voice and the way that Five turns towards her. 

Even if he might feel bad about having left, he’d do the same again.

“No, look, i’m the one who should be sorry. Yeah, I was dismissive, and…” _and i hurt you; I made you feel like an outsider, when we were always the outliers together and i regret doing that but my family comes first;_ there's so much she wants to say, because if there's any of her siblings that she still cares for, its Five. Instead, she says “I guess i didn't know how to process what you were saying. And I still can't, to be honest.”

“Maybe you were right to be dismissive. Maybe it wasn't real after all. It felt real. Well… like you said, the old man did say time travel could contaminate the mind.” Five informs her without meaning a single word and Ari recognizes it for the dismissal it is: Five doesn't trust her enough to keep her around for whatever the next step in his plan is.

“Okay, okay… but if you need anything… someone to talk to… you're not alone Five.” She tells him, allowing her hand to brush Five’s bicep the same way she does to Yusuf when the chemist is refusing to rest in favour of his formulas.

“Thanks but… I think i’m just gonna get some rest. It’s been a long time since i’ve had a good sleep.” _please go away Vanya, i don’t have time right now_ , is what he means.

“Okay.” Ariadne sighs, turning away with hunched shoulders and quick steps and the thing is: she doesn't really have to play up the kicked puppy part. A rejection from Five… still stings in a way that her other siblings seem unable to hit her anymore.

She’s halfway down the stairs before a loud clatter rings out from above.

“That’s so…” Klaus’ voice resonates through the halls. “Touching! All that stuff about family and dad and time. Wow!”

The architect doesn't catch any more of the conversation after that. Klaus and five can look out for each other, she figures. Their kind of crazy normally cancelled each other out.

At the bottom of the stairs she catches the tail end of Allison’s conversation with her husband as she begs desperately to speak to her daughter.

Allison sounds despondent.

Maybe it’s the fact that the mere idea of being separated from her niblings robs the very air from Ari’s lungs or maybe she’s still just a bleeding heart who can't stand to see people suffer, even after all these years, but something prompts her to approach the distressed woman.

“Patrick!” Allison exclaims in a tear voice. “Don’t-” she sighs and Ariadne assumes Patrick has cut the call.

She steps closer to Allison.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah…”

“I’ve never met your husband, but… he sounds like an asshole.” She says, trying to be nice but not really meaning the words.

If someone had done to Phillipa or James what Allison had done to Claire, Ariadne would have personally ripped their tongue out and made them eat it, and she wouldn't even have been the worst of it: Arthur would have made them beg for the relief that death would bring.

Still… she tries.

“That’s one word for it” 

“You know what? You’re probably better off away from him.” Ari opines, thinking that maybe Allison could transfer her consultations to a New York based therapist. 

Allison would certainly benefit with being around people that cared for her, even if it was in the chaotic way the Hargreeves cared for each other. Ariadne knows first hand how people caring for can make all the difference during hard times.

“ _No,_ I'm better off _with my daughter_.” Allison snaps, clearly misunderstanding Ari’s intention.

“Of course, i’m sorry. That’s not-”

“You know, if i wanted advice, Vanya, no offence, it wouldn’t be from you.”

Ariadne freezes, sensing the direction where this argument is going. “What is that supposed to mean?” She questions, her hand clutched around her totem tensely.

“You don't have a child. You’ve never been in a relationship.” Allison points out to the tiny woman in front of her.

“That’s not true-” The Architect tries to interrupt.

“So you know what it's like to love someone like this?”

_Yes._

“Like when you're apart from her, you can’t breathe? Like you would die- actually… die to know she's okay and happy.” 

_Yes_ , Ariadne thinks. She does know what it’s like to be willing to die just to know the people she loves are happy.

And Vanya knew the feeling too.

So it’s not fair of Allison to say that, _it’s not fair_ , because Ariadne loves James and Phillipa like they're her own, even if she could never think to replace Mal; she thinks about them always and aches deep in her bones with every second shes away from them; Ariadne would move mountains for those children and if something ever happened to them, she’d happily die trying to fix it.

It's not fair because Ariadne loves Arthur, Eames, Cobb, Yusuf, Miles and Marie; who are waiting for her back home and for whom the small brunette would jump in front of a bullet for - had jumped in front of bullets fro some of them- and who would happily do the same for her.

_It’s not fair_ because Vanya loved the Academy, loved her siblings so profoundly that she gave more of herself away than she could and in the end, there had been nothing else of her to give.

Vanya loved her sibling so much that she killed herself doing it and she would have drowned Ariadne along with her just so she could stay afloat a little longer, love her siblings for just one second more.

Vanya loved her family so much that when she was gone, Ariadne thought she’d never be able to fill in the void that Vanya had hollowed into their chest, would never be able to grow back the forest that Vanya had burned down to coal.

Vanya had destroyed everything inside of herself and if it hadn’t been for her family by her side to support her, to scavenge for the singed seeds among Vanya’s barren lands and polluted skies, ro bring forth life from death, Ariadne would have collapsed amidst the debris too.

So how _dare_ Allison imply she doesn't understand? Imply that Vanya doesn't understand. When Allison herself knows nothing about Ariadne _or_ Vanya?

A white hot rage unlike she’s ever felt before settles into Ariadne’s chest along with a stinging feeling in her hand.

It takes her a moment to realise she just slapped Allison’s face.

“How dare you?” Ariadne demands in a hissed breath. “You don’t know anything, so don't presume _anything_ about my life or my feelings. You have no right to them.”

“You separate yourself from everyone and everything. You always have.” Allison calls down the hallway as Vanya walks away, rage still burning. “You're an adult Vanya. You don't get to blame your problems on anyone but yourself.”

_And isn’t that hypocritical, Allison?_

The sky is dark and the wind howls like a trapped beast when she steps outside the mansion.  
  


* * *

“Can i help you?” She asks the frumpy looking stranger standing at her doorstep later that afternoon.

“I’m Leonard. I'm your four oclock?”

_Of course._ Ariadne inwardly sighs. Of course Eames would have set up something for her to do before she left La for New York; as if the orchestra wasn't enough.

“Oh, My… I forgot. I am sorry. I’m so sorry, please come in.” she says, instead of the ‘ _fuck off_ ’ she really longs to say to the man.

“I’m guessing I look different… than your other students.”

_Well,_ she thinks, _you're not a little blonde girl who’s just turned ten a few weeks back, so... yes._

“Yeah… 20 or so years difference, don't worry.”

“Well, the ad didn't say anything about age limits.”

“No, no, of course not. It's just easier to learn when you're young; like a second language.”

“Ich verstehe.” Leonard exclaims while nodding along to her words. Ari stares at the man. “That’s german… for ‘i understand’. I took three years in high school and that's all I can remember.”

_Oversharing much?_

For whatever reason, this man seems desperately keen on charming her, and in his defense, if the architect hadn't been living with people who could talk a nun into giving up her vows with just their charisma or if she were as insecure as she was some five years ago, Ariadne might have found his blundering attempts charming… in an awkward way; counterpart to herself. As it is, the short woman finds his floundering attempts stilted and graceless and just wishes for this class to be over already.

“Well, it's right over that way.” She points in the direction she finds will be best to teach a class that will probably only consist of music theory, given the fact that Leonard isn't carrying a violin with him.

“I’ll get organised for a second.”

Leonard picks up her violin and proceeds to play out a screeching note she’d even forgotten the instrument could make.

Not even 8 year-old Phillipa had produced that noise when she’d first gotten her hands on Aunty Ari’s old violin.

As it is, Ariadne wants to punch the man standing in her living room, touching the lovely gold inlaid, matte african blackwood instrument Saito had tailor ordered for Ariadne’s measurements and preferences. The instrument was much too lavish even without mentioning the handcrafted ebony-and-ivory bow that had also been custom made to go along with the piece, but Ariadne treasured the instrument dearly: expensive gifts were Saito’s way of demonstrating his care, especially since the man could rarely visit the family without raising suspicions about how he knew the group.

“You're really just going for it.” She says with a small smile that feels still on her features.

_Put it down this instant,_ Ariadne thinks, hoping Leonard will get the message.

“Yeah…” He smiles.

“I’ll actually take that.” the architect lets out a strained chuckle and feels relief seep into her being when the musical instrument is safely back in her hands. “And we're gonna start with the basics.”

  
  


An hour later, the pair is still going over the basics of music theory, with Leonard seeming more interested in _her_ than the actual class and Ariadne is glad to see their lesson end.

“So-” Leonard starts awkwardly ( _always awkwardly_ , Ari notes) as he rises from the chair.

“So i’ll see you next week.” She cuts him off mid-sentence. “And practice the bow hold and, uh, maybe… get a violin.” She chuckles, sounding strained even to her own ears.

“You can be honest,” Leonard speaks instead of _leaving_ , like she wishes he'd do. “Do you think it's weird wanting to learn the violin this late in life?”

“Not really, no. Monet didn't really start painting until his forties. He did all right for himself. No, if you love music, then you're in the right place.”

“I’d say you're describing my dad more than me. He was the music lover. It’s kind of why I'm here, he passed away a while ago. We had a complicated relationship.” 

And there he goes, oversharing again and trying to resonate with her.

The man highly likely knows who she is, who her family is, and if he doesn't, Sir Reginald died recently enough that _any sane person_ would inquire about her last name, if only to say ‘oh, Hargreeves? Like the recently deceased billionaire? Awful story..’ or _something_ like that; Ariadne doesn't know why this man doesn't just come clean.

“We didn't really get each other, you know? But he loved violin, and that was not my thing. So i guess i'm here to understand him better, if that makes sense. Family. It's never easy right?”

_It can be_ , she thinks, _it can be so easy, if they choose you and you choose them._

“Sorry for getting heavy on you there. Um, stupid, i know.”

“No, it isn't. Don't worry.” _It's just a classic manipulation tactic that makes the manipulator seem safe and relatable. That's the first thing Cobb taught me to watch out for, and how to use it,_ she thinks, fighting not to roll her eyes.

“Well, thanks.” Leonard speaks to her as he puts on his coat and readies himself to leave. “Guess i'll see you next week.”

_If we’re still alive by then._

“Yeah, sure.” she says.

“Uh… i'm a woodworker. I have a shop in, ah, bricktown. You should come by sometime. You know, check it out.”

A tense silence stretches between the pair.

“This week I'm busy, but-” Ariadne starts haltingly, struggling and failing to come up with an excuse.

“It's fine, i understand. Another time. See you next week.” Leonard tells her, all sad eyes and dropping shoulders, which might have worked on her if Ariadne didn't have three menances back home who used that trick very liberally to get what they want. 

She's immune by this point, and so the Architect watches Leonard leave impassively.

Her phone pings in her pocket.

_LOML_

_That was just miserable to listen to darling_

_Gov. RObot:_

_For once, Eames and I can agree on something._

_The Brain:_

_Maybe you should drop that student in particular, my friend?_

Ariadne chucks the iphone on top of the sofa.

  
_Nosier than a pair of gossiping grannies, the whole lot of them!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a real rollercoaster, huh? I hope you enjoyed the reading. As always, please leave kudos and comments!
> 
> (The names on Ari's phone, if anyone is curious enough to know them: -LOML for Eames, Gov. Robot for Arthur, Family Patriarch for Cobb, The Brain for Yusuf, Grandpa M for Miles, Grandma M fro Marie, and Family Sugar Dad for Saito; three guesses as to who put those names down).


	7. We Take Care Of Each Other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm BACK! Better late than never, eh? I took a few days to let my wrist rest and read a bit instead of just writing, so I hope nobody minds that.  
> It's also in this chapter where our story starts to diverge from the Official Umbrella Academy timeline, so I'm a bit nervous.  
> As always, please enjoy the reading. :D

I knew that what was left of me would always love you, but never in quite the same way.

-F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and the Damned.

* * *

Ariadne runs in a mad dash through the halls of the Icarus theatre, a mantra of _“Shit, shit, shit”_ echoing through her mind.

_She’s late._

She can’t believe she’s late for her first session with the Icarus Orchestra; she’s normally better at keeping up with schedules but these last few days have been tiring, leaving the woman feeling sad and angry most of the time, and her fight with her adoptive sister and the thin, miserable rain do little to help to lift her mood or her energy.

Ariadne feels mildly embarrassed as she sits down on the spot reserved for the 3rd chair violinist and that embarrassment only grows when all of the other musicians stop playing abruptly.

“I’m so sorry I'm late.” is all she says, flustered.

“I hadn’t noticed.” The conductor tells Ariadne, with the contempt that laces his voice only serving to fuel the disdain the other musicians in the room seem to feel for the diminutive woman.

Ariadne knows what they think of her, with the meek presence she puts out and her needlessly expensive violin: they see a spoilt little heir; someone who’s only been accepted into the orchestra because of the connections and influence of someone she knows; an outsider with no real respect or love for music, taking up a spot amongst them when someone much better could be in her place. 

Ariadne doesn't mind; she knows her talents and knows that although she's an above average violinist (who plays mostly for a hobby nowadays), her real talents can be found in a completely different field. 

So at the end of the day, these people judging her are kind of right.

( _She still imagines herself punching the first chair violinist in the face for the way the asian woman scoffs in her direction. Ariadne’s understanding, not a saint.)_

“From the top.” the conductor speaks, tapping his baton in a way that almost makes Ariadne’s ear hurt, and the whole orchestra starts playing its somber melody.

Outside the windows, it pours.

* * *

  
  


Ariadne bumps into the first violinist on her way out of the bathroom. Helen is her name, Ariadne remembers now.

“Helen…” The short woman starts hesitantly. “You were great today. Really, really great.”

_Maybe,_ Ariadne thinks to herself, _if she’s amicable, she could leave New York with a nice acquaintance._

“Thanks.” Helen responds curtly.

“It’s those runs in the Stravinsky. I’ve been hacking at them for weeks,” _She hadn’t really, but it seemed like a good topic. ”_ And you just make-”

“Make them look easy?” Helen interrupts, clearly fighting to roll her eyes.

Ariadne nods, arranging her face in a way that makes her look interested and hopeful - or so Cobb told her, during one of his acting lessons - even as her opinion of the first chair violinist continues to plummet.

“What's your name again?” Helen asks, maybe honestly not knowing or maybe just for the joy of being childishly petty.

“Vanya.” Ariadne responds, fighting not to cringe at the name she so hates being called.

“Vanya. I don't know who your daddy knows that managed to land you here, but at a certain point, it's not about practice; anyone here can tell you that. At a certain point, it's about whether you've got something special. And maybe you just... Dont. You can put in your 10,000 hours, or… you can go find something that you’re genuinely passionate about and stop slogging away at Stravinsky like a scared 13-year-old.”

Helen looks, for the first time, genuine in what she says, for all that her words are hurtful, like she genuinely doesn't want somebody to throw their life away on something they don't love.

It's a weirdly uplifting thought and Ariadne decides right then and there that, for all of Helen’s rude bluntness, she actually rather likes the asian woman: there's not a lot of people that care enough about total strangers to be completely truthful to them, so Helen’s opinion is a rare gift that should be taken to heart, even if it reveals nothing that she already doesn't know.

“Think about it.” Helens finishes her small speech earnestly.

Ariadne watches the first chair violinist walk away feeling a budding respect grow for her.

She smiles to herself in the mirror and chuckles. “You hear that? We shouldn’t waste our life away.” 

* * *

Ariadne changes her route home completely to scope out Leonard’s woodshop.

She might just be paranoid, but there’s something about the mousy man that just rubs her the wrong way and she wants to get to the bottom of it, have more information before she decides if she needs her family’s help for... Something, whatever it is.

( _Probably not)._

Leonard’s store, Imperial Woodwares, is frumpy and faded, with unoffending browns on the furniture, desaturated oranges for the brick storefront; a flat, dark green sign; and dim, yellow lighting coming from the inside; a very dull thing to look at, overall, very much like like its owner, Leonard.

Ariadne considers just going home; she doesn't have to do this, she can just forget this man and never see him again. 

_What if he’s dangerous though? Not just for me, but other people? I’ve never been wrong about this...._

Just as Ariadne turns to walk away, feeling like she’s stood too long in front of the store, she comes face to face with the man that has occupied her thoughts, walking towards her with a pleased little glint in his eyes.

Ari shudders; that man hits all of her _‘creep’_ buttons without even trying.

“Hey, Vanya.”

“I just got out of rehearsal and was in the neighbourhood, so i thought…” She starts, feeling compelled to give a reason as to why she’s here.

“Came all the way to Bricktown?”

Ariadne shrugs her shoulders, knowing Leonard will take it as an answer.

( _‘If you prefer not to lie, you can always omit things, maybe twist your words a little bit; or just not answer at all, if you can find a way.” She remembers Arthur telling her._

_“Great for lie detector tests.” Eames had added, arm slung around her shoulder._

_“Or…” Cobb had chimed from the kitchen, “Just don’t be the idiot that gets caught in a situation where they have to answer questions”)._

“Well, since you're here, you might as well come in.” Leonard smiles at her, that glint still shining in his eyes.

The inside of Leonard’s store is just as underwhelming as the outside, Ariadne notes: dim, even with the overabundance of yellowed lights that hang from the ceiling and lean against walls almost everywhere; with a claustrophobic and clustered feeling that seems displaced in the rather large space.

This shop somehow manages to offend not only all of Ariadne’s architectural sensibilities, but also the side of her that enjoys interior design and she wants to leave this space as soon as she enters it.

“These are beautiful.” She says about some knick-knack or another, for lack of another thing to say.

“Ah, thank you. Restoration Antiques.” Leonard exclaims, seeming to actually enjoy the topic. “It’s my bread and butter.” He finishes rather lamely, all the while keeping his eyes on the small woman.

“But I do play around with other things.” Leonard tacks on, perhaps looking to make himself more interesting in her eyes.

“Like what?”

“Oh, I don't know. It’s kind of embarrassing… Come on.”

Leonard leads Ari to the back of the shop, pulling aside a yellow-brown curtain that fits in perfectly with the rest of the shop.

_This is how unaware and untrained women end up kidnapped or dead in a ditch,_ an annoying voice in her head pipes up to say. 

Ariadne tells that voice to shut the hell up, but her hands nervously reach for her totem inside her jacket’s pocket, her mind thinking about her family and reminding herself that even if something _did_ happen, her family would come for her.

It’s that thought that allows her to relax.

“You made all of these?” Ariadne asks, looking around at all of the woodcarvings in genuine wonder.

“When i was a kid, my imagination was my escape. And clearly, I never grew up.” Leonard tells her, tone self deprecating.

“No, it’s amazing.” Ariadne tells Leonard, trying to sound sincere.

“Ballerina is kind of my best. Or maybe the duck? Or the duck. Or the other duck.” Leonard chuckles and it occurs to the architect that she could have liked this man, some four or five years ago, before she met Cobb and his ragtag group or before she actually started seeing them as family.

What a strange thought that is.

Leonard continues speaking as her mind races “But there is something you should see.”

“Is that…?” Ari started, seeing what appears to be the figurine of a Violinist in the man’s hands.

“Okay, so i might have… stayed up last night making this.”

Ariadne fights against the cold chill racing down her spine and the way her stomach rolls at Leonard’s words, her features almost twisting, involuntarily, into a scowl. “Wow… It’s beautiful.” she tells him, because that’s the only thing she can come up with that isn't a lie.

“Thank you. Take it.”

“Oh, no. I…” _I don't want your creepy gift that's probably going to keep me up at night for the rest of my time here in New York; I don't want that - or you - anywhere near me; I want you to keep your disturbing sculpture for yourself._

She says none of that and lets her words trail off.

“I insist. Please. I made it for you.” Leonard tells her, probably taking her speechlessness as bashfulness.

_It’s worse that you ‘made it for me’; we met_ yesterday _, you psycho!_

Still, the small woman takes the gift, even as it makes her feel slimy and disgusting.

She’ll burn it later, or something.

“You inspired me.” Leonard confesses, looking at her like she’s salvation.

* * *

  
  


He insists on walking her home and their journey is, thankfully, mostly quiet, save for the occasional small talk: her job, his job, the weather.

It’s inoffensive and reveals nothing about the man walking at her side.

“It might be inappropriate seeing as i’m your impressionable young student… but would you wanna have dinner with me tonight?” Leonard asks out of the blue.

_No; never; go to hell._

Upon seeing the way Ariadne freezes and recoils from him, Leonard continues. “You don't have to if you don't want to.

“Yeah.” She answers quickly, even if dinner with Leonard is one of the last things she wants in the world.

“It’s fast... i know, but…”

“I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

Ariadne catches movement from her peripheral and turns to the left, only to spot “... Allison?” she asks, confused.

Allison approaches with hesitant steps and a guilty look, but she has always been impulsive and an actress, even if not a good one, so there's not much reason to believe her guilt, not because it's not real, but because the likelihood of something similar to their previous encounter happening again are high.

“Hey…” Allison responds to Ari’s query, a smile on her face that looks more like a grimace.

“Leonard, this is my sister, Allison.”

“Wait a second. I know you.” Leonard informs Allison, that glint that has started to become familiar back on his eyes. “You were in that movie. You're in the movie, the… You were the lawyer! The tough one in the wheelchair, right?”

“Yeah… yeah, that was me.” Allison chuckles awkwardly.

Leonard turned back to the shorter woman. “You didn't tell me your sister was a movie star.” He exclaims. “Wow. You were in that Umbrella thing too, weren't you?” He asks Allison, glinting eyes seeming more like a pair of stars in the darkness now.

Leonard turns back to Ariadne before Allison can answer his query.

“But you weren't in that, were you?”

“No, uh… I was kind of the fifth beatle of the family, so…” The architect responds nervously as the wind seems to pick up around them; howling.

“I never really did like the Beatles. More of a Stones guy, myself.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but, uh… could you come back to the house? We're having a family meeting.” Allison cuts in uncomfortably.

“And you guys want me there?” Ariadne asks, genuine surprise and disbelief bleeding unmasked into her words.

“Of course.” Allison answers earnestly, throwing a distrustful look at Leonard.

_Ah, she noticed how strange he is too; this could become problematic._

_“_ It’s about Mom.” Allison finally reveals.

Ariadne turns back to Leonard, ready to apologize for leaving so suddenly, but the man let’s her off the hook easily and she has never been more thankful for Allison’s weird timing.

“We’ll do a raincheck on dinner.” Leonard promises with a small smile before he walks away.

“... Who’s the guy?” Allison asks, her voice playfully suggestive.

“He’s just a…” _a mark, a target; a distraction from the shit New York brings up in my head; someone who really strokes my paranoia. I don't know; you can take your pick, Allison._ “He’s just a friend.” She finally settles with.

“Friends?” Allison’s voice drips with disbelief.

“No, it's not… maybe I'm just trying not to separate myself from everything and everyone.” She pointedly says, even as she knows that it’ll make Allison feel guilty.

“I’m… I’m really sorry.” Allison starts, shoulders slumping. “I shouldn't have said those things to you yesterday. I was angry with Patrick and I… I took it out on you. I’m really sorry. I’m, uh… I’m not good at this whole sister thing.”

“I hadn't noticed.”

“Ouch! Tell me how you really feel.” Allison says playfully.

“I’m… i’m sorry too.” Ariadne sighs, feeling the truth in her own words as she says them. “I’ve been going through some stuff too, and that slap, those words, they weren’t… well, actually... they were for you. You really hurt me; but they weren’t just for you and you didn’t deserve to get the full brunt of what i was feeling… if that makes sense? Bottom line is... I don’t think either of us were ever really good at being the sister… of a sister. We were always better at being the sisters of brothers, you and I. so, I'm… I’m not mad. I just hope you're not mad at me either.”

“Okay… Okay.” Allison nods, something teary but bright in her voice as the pair starts walking towards the mansion, side by side.

The sun starts peeking through the clouds.

  
  


* * *

“You really think Mom would hurt our father?” Ariadne asks Luther in disbelief while their family - sans Five - watches the recording of Sir Reginald’s death.

“You haven't been home in a long time, Vanya. Maybe you don’t know Grace anymore.”

_Oh Luther…_ the shortest of the Hargreeves’ thinks pityingly to herself, _ever the naive,_ **_stupid_ ** _little sheep…_

There's little good to be said about Sir Reginald as a person, but anyone could tell you that the man’s inventions were mechanical masterpieces made to last. Grace could probably survive a couple hundred years at the bottom of the Marianas Trench with no malfunctions if it weren't for her battery; she wouldn’t be malfunctioning just like that.

“If he was poisoned, it would have shown in the coroner's report.” Diego tells Luther, a sort of ‘duh’ tone in his voice.

“Well, I don't need a coroner’s report to tell me what I can see with my own eyes.” Luther stubbornly shoots back.

“Maybe all that low gravity in space messed with your vision. Look closer.” Diego points to the television screen. “Dad has his monocle. Mom stands up, monocle’s gone.” Diego points out.

“Oh, yeah!” Klaus agrees while laughing loudly.

“She wasn't poisoning him.” Diego continues as he walks away from the television, dramatic little shit that he is. “She was… taking it. To clean it.” Diego finishes triumphantly.

“Then where is it?” Luther asks. “No, I've searched the house, including all her things. She doesn't have it.”

“That's because I took it from her after the funeral.” Diego confesses.

And maybe Ariadne has been spending way too long watching reality television with Marie and Miles -It’s a guilty pleasure and hardly her own fault- but the only thing her mind manages to conjure at the revelation is a tiny sing-song voice playfully chiming ‘ _Drama~”_ in her head.

She kind of agrees.

“You've had the monocle this whole time? What the hell, diego?” Allison asks in annoyance.

“Give it to me.” Luther snaps, advancing on Diego in a desperate manner.

“I threw it away.”

“You what?” Luther freezes.

“Look, I knew if you found it on Mom, you’d lose your shit. Just like you’re doing right now.” Diego says, pointing a knife at Luther.

“Diego, you son of a Bitch.”

Ariadne sighs and moves between the men closing in on each other, knowing where this is going. “Hey, no. Calm down.” She tells them, the same way she does when the Double Trouble Duo are having a spat. “Look, I know… Dad wasn’t exactly an open book. But I do remember one thing he said. Mom was… well, she was designed to be a caretaker. But also a protector.”

“What does that mean?” Allison questions, turning her whole body towards Ariadne.

“She was programmed to intervene if someone’s life was in jeopardy.” Ariadne informs the others, clutching her totem in her pocket.

“Well, if her Hardware is degrading, then… we need to turn her off.” Luther concludes, as if the decision were his alone to make.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait.” Diego cuts in sharply, offended by the idea. “She’s not just a vacuum cleaner you can throw in a closet. She feels things, I've seen it!” He shouts.

“She just stood there, Diego. And watched Father die.”

_Not like he didn't deserve it. I’d have done the same._

“I’m with Luther.” Allison chimes in with her opinion.

_Of course you would be;_ Ariadne thinks, fighting not to roll her eyes.

“Surprise, surprise.” Diego verbally echoes Ari’s thoughts.

“Shut up.” Allison shoots back.

And then everyone in the room is turning to Ariadne, waiting for her to speak up.

“I- I don’t-” she starts haltingly.

“Yeah, she shouldn't get a vote.” Diego cuts her off midway.

“I was gonna say that I agree with you!” Ariadne snaps at Diego, not quite believing he’d be so petty to exclude her on this.

“Okay, she should get a vote.” Diego concedes before turning to Klaus. “What about you, Stoner Boy? What do you got?”

“Oh, so, what? You need my help now?” Klaus asks, sounding tired and not-entirely-there. “Oh, ‘get out of the van, Klaus’, ‘well, welcome back to the van’.”

Ariadne watches Klaus and wonders about him; about his tiredness and about his trauma; about the gentle and sarcastic boy she can still see in this person standing in front of her.

She could bring him back to LA; meet her family. The kids would love Klaus and none of the adults would mind his eccentricities or his drug problems (not like half the house wasn’t addicted to dreaming as if it were a drug; no one would have a place to judge).

Klaus could be loved and appreciated back home. He could have people who would want and need him as much as he wants and needs them.

The thought makes her ache in a good way; to see her brother, the one she still loves so much it hurts, happy… that would be a gift she could only ever hope for.

“What van?” Allison asks in confusion.

“What’s it gonna be, Klaus?” Luther asks impatiently.

“I’m with Diego, because screw you! And if Ben were here, he’d agree with me.” Klaus concludes with a fake teary voice and then proceeds to hiss at the empty air to his right.

“So, that’s three?” Diego asks.

“Wait.” Luther responds.

“To two.”

“Vote’s not final yet.” Allison stops Diego’s gloating.

“What.”

“Five’s not here. The whole family has to vote. We owe each other that.” Allison informs the room at large.

“Right.” Luther agrees, clearly thinking he’s somehow won.

The sibling split after that, everyone leaves the living room and going in their own direction, with only Ari and Diego as the only ones to take notice of Grace waiting in one of the entrances with that same blank-but-vaguely-sad look in her eyes as she had a couple of days before, when Ariadne saw her sitting alone in the living room.

“Hey, how long you been here?” Diego asks Grace worriedly as he approaches her.

“You all seem upset.” Grace observes with a frown. “I’ll make some cookies.” She informs the pair with a smile and walking away cheerily, completely clueless to what the children had been discussing until now.

“Do you ever wonder…” Ari starts, wondering about Grace. “All those moments with Mom, the things she said… Like, was it her or was it really Dad?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, he built her and he programmed her to be a mom; our mom. Sometimes when i look at her… I just see him.”

“Maybe that was true at first; but she evolved.”

“Well... how do you know that?”

“Because Dad only loved himself.” Diego tells her before walking away.

  
  


* * *

Ariadne doesn't know why she stays at the mansion and waits for Five to come back. 

Maybe it’s nostalgia.

Maybe it's the weird chill she feels in the air, as if the atmosphere itself were loaded with incoming danger.

Regardless of what it is, she stays.

She’s not too surprised when gunshots echo throughout the house.

“Hello?” Ariadne calls out into the sudden silence, knowing from experience that silence after the sound of gunshots is never good. “Guys, is everyone okay? Hello? Guys?”

Ariadne’s walking to the living room when someone attacks her and she has a fraction of a section to dodge being hit by a _fucking flail._

With her mind already in mission mode and racing, Ariadne takes a second to catalogue what she can about her attacker: Tall, about 6’3 or taller; masculine body in a Navy blue suit; a cartoonish blue bear mask.

She dodges a second strike from the attacker’s free hand by launching herself between their legs and rolling to her feet behind them, falling into a fighting stance on instinct: standing sideways to make herself an even smaller target; with her feet shoulder length apart and knees bent, giving herself more stability on the off chance that one of the attacker’s strikes actually hits her.

“Hey, Asshole!” Luther’s voice rings out, attracting the attacker’s attention and saving Ari from having to fight the large person.

While the two behemoths face off, the tiny brunette takes off running, suddenly remembering that Klaus, even with all his training, has never been a fighter and must be terrified right now.

_No one left behind unless they're dead. We take care of each other._

Ariadne skids into the kitchen to find Allison engaged in a hand-to-hand fight with another intruder: about 5’9, feminine body type with the same kind of navy suit as the other, and same type of cartoonish animal mask, this one of a pink dog.

_A team,_ her mind provides, _well trained and likely hired._

Ariadne runs out of the kitchen before either one of the fighters can notice her, accidentally slamming her shoulder to Diego’s in her haste and eliciting a loud ‘Hey!’ from her adoptive brother that she pays no mind to.

Ariadne finds Klaus dancing around in his old room and slams into the lanky man in her inability to decelerate, making both of them hit the ground with breathless, twin groans. 

She’s back on her feet as soon as they land, though, pulling Klaus up with one hand and covering his opening mouth with the other while she pushes both of them into the closet.

Letting go of Klaus, Ari puts a finger to her lips and another to his, making it very clear for the taller one of the pair to remain quiet.

Heavy footsteps advance in their direction from down the hall and stop inside the room.

A large hand forcefully slams the closet door open, making Ariadne flinch and Klaus shriek as they come face-to-mask with Blue-Bear-Mask, watching the pair curiously.

“Look-” Ariadne starts but cuts herself off with another flinch as Blue-Bear-Mask tilts their head.

The last thing she sees is a heavy fist approaching her face before she’s out, without even a chance to dodge in the small closet.

Nobody finds the small pill bottle with a melted cap inside the closet.

* * *

She comes to with Klaus' muffled scream ringing from somewhere nearby and her cheek pressed to the leather seat of a car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I hope you had fun reading!


	8. I have survived so many fires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here i am, back with a very short chapter.... I'd say i'm sorry for not updating, but i haven't been inspired AT ALL and college + Work take my time, but if it's any comfort, the next chapter is in the works, i just gotta... rewatch the episode so i remember what i'm working with.
> 
> (Also, this chapter is kind of dialogue-heavy and i just... do not vibe with that™.)
> 
> So i hope you guys enjoy the chapter i FINALLY managed to put out.

_I have survived_

_So many fires_

_I can no longer_

_Tell if i'm alive_

_Or if i'm still_

_Burning._

_-Pavana Reddy_

* * *

Ariadne learned a long time ago that torture hurts like a bitch, for obivious reasons. But, surprisingly, she has found, being tortured inside the PASIV hurts much more than being tortured in the waking world.

On the other hand, PASIV torture doesnt leave behind the phantom pains that level 0 torture does; so its a loss either way, really.

All this to say, of course, that Ariadne has been tortured before, in a myriad of ways and it’s unlikely that Pink Mask’s uninspired _waterboarding-_ of all things _-_ will break her.

For now, Ariadne’s just glad the pair- a man and a woman- have turned their attention from Klaus to focus on her instead. At least Klaus can get a moment to breathe, like this.

Ariadne would rather be tortured herself than watch another person suffer like that.

“Where is Number Five?” the woman asks again when she finally pulls the wet towel away from Ari’s face.

Ariadne heaves in a desperate breath.

Klaus groans loudly from his position across from the two women, looking sweaty and roughened up tied to the chair. “I can’t believe you’d start taking care of Vanya before i could _finish_!” he whines, likely trying to bring their torturer’s attention back to himself.

It’s a sweet sentiment, Ariadne thinks as she avoids looking any lower than Klaus’ torso in fear of seeing things she _never_ wants to see from her sibling.

“I can’t believe you’ve spent the last ten hours… _beating_ us senseless and learned _absolutely nothing_.” Klaus throws his head back in laughter. “Even sweet, little Vanya, with no training and who isn’t enjoying our session at all… hasn’t broken. Are you two really professionals? But-but… and even if one of us did break, though… nobody ever tells either of us shit. We’re the only people in that house that the others won’t even notice are gone. You assholes kidnapped the wrong pair of Hargreeves’!” Klaus laughs with a wheezing breath.

The large, burly man slaps the back of Klaus’ head, like he’s done countless times throughout the night whenever Klaus got too cheeky. 

“Ow!” Klaus yelps. “I’m _sorry_ , okay?”

“Please, make him stop talking.” Blue mask begs towards Ariadne.

“I really don’t think anyone can make him stop talking, _ever_ . Klaus just has a lot of things to say. Besides… you _did_ ask us to talk.” Ari sasses reasonably, her features twisted in a clearly faked sympathy.

The woman with the pink mask rises from her perch with a tired sigh. “Let’s waterboard him.” She says.

A twin pair of “ _No_!”’s rings through the room from Ari and Klaus, the later of whom starts to squirm wildly in his chair as the masked woman approaches him, undeterred.

A few minutes later, both the man and the woman find out that they shouldn't have even bothered though, as Klaus has used the opportunity to drink some of the water poured over him.

“Ah! Oh, I needed that.” Klaus informs the other occupants in the room, smiling all the while.

Ariadne’s simultaneously impressed and wondering why she even worried.

“Come on!” Blue mask complains, stomping his foot loudly.

“ _So parched_.” Klaus continues. “Thank you. Thank you.”

The kidnappers, apparently tired of Klaus’... everything, walk towards the bathroom, leaving the bound siblings to watch as they retreat.

“Please stop taunting them, Klaus.” Ariadne whispers tiredly when Blue and Pink mask are out of hearing range. “They’ll get irritated; irritated people make mistakes. I don’t know about you, but if i die here, i’ll have a _lot_ of regrets.”

“You worry too much, sister mine.” Klaus responds with a strained laugh. “We’ll be-” he cuts himself off when the bathroom door opens, their kidnappers appearing once again with newly-set determination on their shoulders.

They stand just out of hearing range, talking amongst themselves. It’d be a good intimidation tactic, if Klaus and Ariadne hadn’t been tortured by the pair already.

“I don’t know!” Klaus exclaims suddenly, seemingly talking to thin air. “But it’s driving me crazy! The bitch won’t shut up!”

“Klaus?” Ariadne questions, wondering what the psychic might be seeing, if they’re hallucinations or his powers acting up.

He _must be_ sobering up at this point, with the adrenaline and how long it’s been since his last hit.

“Hey! Watch your mouth.” Blue mask orders loudly. “What did I say about eyes front?”

The masked pair walk back to stand in front of the sibling and Pink mask picks up Klaus’ coat, beginning to rummage through it’s pockets.

_Speaking of drugs..._

“Wait, wait, wait, wait…” Klaus chants, despair growing in his voice as he realises where this is going.

“Let’s see…” Pink mask hums as she methodically paws through the coat’s pockets.

“What are you doing? That’s mine. That’s my _personal_ stuff.” Klaus whines, squirming in his chair.

“Oh!” Pink mask gasps in faux delight upon finding Klaus’ stash. “What do we have here?”

“Let me see that.” Blue mask requests in amusement.

“Hey! No, no, no, no. Be- be careful with that.” Klaus demands when Pink mask carelessly tosses one of the packets to her partner. “It’s- it’s... my asthma medication.” Klaus attempts to lie, badly.

Blue mask chuckles. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” he throws one of the various packets to the ground.

“Hey… No! Hey, whoa! No, hey, hold on! Hold on! We can have a conversation, we’re all adults.” Klaus pleads, his eyes hastily jumping from each of the three other occupants of the room and the empty air near him.

“Okay, you want more?” Blue mask mocks, throwing another packet.

“No, no! No, no, no! Stop! Stop! Please, listen.” Klaus shrieks in desperation, jumping around in his chair so much it’s a wonder the appliance doesn't break. “Listen, i can… i can get you cash.”

_What?_

“Amputee hookers, whatever.” Klaus continues and Ariadne throws a disgusted grimace in his direction. “Hey, just, please, just listen. Just don't… No… please…”

“Chocolate. Hm-hm-hm!” Blue mask delights, breaking a piece of a chocolate bar and eating it. 

“Please…”

“You want a piece?” The masked man asks his partner, amused.

Pink mask takes the chocolate, eating it without question.

“Not until they're high as kites.” Klaus speaks to his unseen companion.

“This could all be yours for the low, low price of telling us everything.” Pink mask enticingly promises.

“Okay, fine.” klaus agrees in a breath.

“Klaus… don’t! I swear i'll get you whatever drug you want… Just keep your mouth shut! Don’t rat out what little info we know!” Ariadne exclaims, suddenly coming alive from her role as a passive observer to her brother’s unconventional torture.

She gets a slap to the back of head, courtesy of Blue mask, for her efforts. 

“Hey, now…” the man admonishes lightly, “I actually like you, compared to him. you’re not nearly as annoying. Keep like that and don’t make me change my mind. I’d hate to kill you.” he warns.

It’s enough to shut Ari’s mouth, even as she insistently shakes her head in Klaus’ direction.

Klaus ignores her.

“Okay, I don't… I dont know _where_ Five is, i wasn't lying about that.” Klaus confesses, crying softly. “But i can tell you that he’s… he hasn’t- hasn’t been making much sense since he came back.”

Ariadne sighs, allowing her tired body to slump forward, the only thing supporting her weight now the ropes wrapped around her torso. _We’re done,_ she thinks. _We're done and our kidnappers will kill us now that they have the information they want, before my family can help us._

“ _Elaborate_.” Blue mask orders.

“I… uh… he’s just- he’s been acting like a- a- a lunatic!”

_Pot, meet kettle._ Ariadne thinks as she tries not to roll her eyes.

“He’s been sitting in this van in front of a- a lab or something and… looking for the owner of an eyeball. One of those fake ones.”

Ariadne’s eyebrows reach for her hairline in surprise, leaning her head towards her brother in her surprise.

“That makes no sense.” Blue mask says in confusion.

“Hold on, just hold on. Tell us more about this eye and why is it so important?” Pink mask cuts in, leaning against a wall, the picture of casualness.

“He said it had something to do with the end of times, or something.”

Their kidnappers glance at each other and then quickly start moving around the room, gathering scattered items from here and there.

“Where is this lab?” Pink mask asks.

  
  


Klaus screams in the darkness somewhere overwhelmingly near Ari’s left ear. It’s dizzying and makes her head throb mercilessly, so she’s thankful when the psychic’s screams die down to a, preferable, heavy breathing.

Ariadne should have taken her pills a few hours ago, and her anxiety keeps on climbing.

Just as Klaus’ breathing finally grows silent too, the room door opening and the sound of a vacuum cleaner being turned on starts outside the closet, further disorienting Ari.

The closet is tight, with the walls simultaneously seeming to spin and close in around her and... Klaus is _screaming_ again. Ariadne blacks out for a few seconds, but as soon as her vision clears, she resolves to start screaming along with Klaus, if only not to black out again, if only for the small chance of getting out, if only because otherwise she’ll lose her goddamned shit, if only, if only, if only…

The cleaner, whoever it is, does not hear their efforts but Ariadne can hear Klaus sniffling and his occasional stuttered breathing. 

In a sick sort of way, It comforts her a little.

Ariadne thumps her head against the wall in defeat.


End file.
